


Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention

by Arualiaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Harry has a hopeless crush, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Masturbation, Professor Tom Riddle, Stress Relief, Teacher-Student Relationship, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19702852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arualiaa/pseuds/Arualiaa
Summary: Harry feels nothing but dread about his upcoming NEWTS. Luckily, Professor Riddle offers some assistance.





	Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention

“Mr. Potter, a word before you leave.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, his bag hung on his shoulders. “Ah— yeah, of course, Professor. See you guys later!” He called to Ron and Hermione.

“Remember our study group, Harry!” Hermione urged, before she left with Ron. There they went, bickering again like an old married couple. Harry sighed fondly, closing the door, before turning around.

Professor Riddle was staring at him intently. He had this… _intense_ look that in all seven years of his Hogwarts education, had never failed to make Harry squirm.

Tom Riddle, youngest Defence Master in two centuries… and impossibly, _unfairly_ handsome. It was nothing short of a miracle that Harry had managed to concentrate in class enough to not only pass his exceedingly high standards (Ron was a natural, and he still struggled to make it) but to actually hold the top marks.

DADA was his best subject, yes… and also his favourite.

It had nothing to do with his hot teacher at all, no sir. He was currently tapping a finger against his desk, in contemplation.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Mr. Potter… it has come to my attention that you are… facing a _sizable_ amount of stress about your upcoming NEWT exams,” he said.

It was true. Harry was _terrified_ of the prospect. The thought of failure, of never achieving his dream job as an auror, not following in his father’s footsteps… it weighed over him like a ton of bricks. He was particularly worried about Potions. Severus might be friends with his mum, but he was _ruthless_ in class, and if he held some sort of bias towards Draco, his godson, none of his mercy was spent on Harry.

Probably because of his dad. Yeah, _definitely_ because of his dad. His seventeenth birthday had been a disaster… the four Marauders in all their middle-aged glory and Professor Snape were _not_ a good combination, despite his mum’s best intentions.

“I… it’s true, sir.” _How did he know?_

Professor Riddle stopped rapping his fingers against his desk, his countenance casual. “There is an… _ah_ , extracurricular activity I believe might help you. It requires examination, and I will supervise, if you choose to pursue it.”

Harry didn’t understand, but the way he enunciated each word, deliberately, with _purpose_ , made his heart skip a beat. “Sir…? What’s this activity?”

“Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention,” he said, as professionally as he would when discussing an upcoming exam. “It is better known for its initials.”

Its initials… it took a second for Harry’s brain to compute, before he went beet red.

_He wasn’t suggesting…?_

“Would you agree for me to supervise, _Harry_?” The way Riddle purred his first name sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. There was no doubt in his mind that _yes_ , this was happening. “Right now?”

“R-right now…?” Harry’s voice was a husky whisper, betraying the arousal that had hit him like a truck.

“Yes, right now. Are you willing?”

Shame crept through his veins, thrumming with desire. Anyone could see, they could hear… This… this was his _teacher_.

The same teacher he’d crushed on since he was fifteen. Maybe even earlier.

“Yes,” he said breathlessly. He was already hard, Merlin…

Professor Riddle walked around his desk then, casting privacy and silencing wards towards the door. For a moment, Harry thought he would walk closer, but he simply leaned against the desk, looking unaffected.

“Well? I believe you might have an… idea on the curriculum. Demonstrate.”

It was so _unfair_ how calm he sounded. “Y-yeah…” Harry mumbled, undoing the single button that tied his school robes together, and shakily fumbling with the button on his trousers.

He’d never been this nervous and horny in his entire life.

Pulling the fly down and letting his trousers pool around his knees, the tent in his briefs was very obvious. Harry squirmed under the intensity of Riddle’s brown gaze, darkening with lust. The sight alone made his erection twitch.

“Fffuck…” Harry cursed under his breath, as he pulled down his pants and allowed his erection to spring free, hitting the cool air. The hair on his arms stood on end.

“You are doing so well…” Riddle murmured, staring at his flushed cock. “Go on. Show me.”

That velvety voice of his was getting to him, Harry knew. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. Humming in response, he gingerly touched the tip of his member, slick with precum, and spread it all over his length.

“Mmmh…” Harry’s eyelids drooped, the sheer _audacity_ of what he was doing sending jolts of pleasure down his spine, as he leaned back against a random desk for support.

“Do not close your eyes, Harry,” Riddle instructed. “Keep them on me.”

The simple command made him moan softly, his hips bucking against his hand. He felt hot and cold, the hair at the nape of his neck standing on end, and the point where their eyes met was pure electricity.

He started stroking himself faster, panting for breath. His desire made his movements desperate and erratic, his pulse thrumming wildly. “Mngh…ohfuck—“

“Slow down,” Riddle said, and Harry _whined_ , forcing his hand to obey. “You will not last long otherwise.”

He was right. He wouldn’t. But still, with trembling legs, Harry slowed down. He imagined it was Riddle’s pale hand, stroking him slowly but firmly, and he threw his head back with a throaty moan.

It was one thing to imagine it in the dorms or in the shower. But in front of the man himself, watching intently his every move…

It was embarrassing and unfair, but Harry _really_ had no chance to last long like this. He bit his lips. “Mgh…”

“Yes, Harry? Is there something…you wanted to say?”

“I’m… I’m gonna—“ Harry choked on his words, because his hand wasn’t stopping, he couldn’t stop. “ _Ah—_ I’m gonna come…”

“Is that so? Show me then. Show me how you unravel, right in front of me,” Riddle urged. “Come for me, Harry.”

_Oh_ , that command hit the bullseye, going straight to his cock. His hand trembled, his strokes growing quick and desperate again, so close, so _close_ —

Harry squeezed, locking eyes with his teacher, and that sent him towards the edge as he touched himself with reckless abandon, hips thrusting as he came in thick spurts. His moans filled the room, until all that was left was his laboured breathing.

He rested against the desk, chest heaving with his recent orgasm. Riddle walked closer to him, brushing sweaty locks of hair away from his forehead.

“Not bad,” he mused. “But I still think you will require some… _tutoring_.”

Harry hadn’t even come down from his climax, and suddenly, he felt a foreign hand touching his spent cock. It began to harden again, slowly.

Oh Merlin…

“Yes…please _yes_.”

When Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower for Hermione’s little study group, he knew Professor Riddle had been right. He felt more relaxed, and in the best mood he’d been in for _weeks_.

His parting words made him shiver in anticipation, however.

_“See you tomorrow for more tutoring, Harry.”_


End file.
